Hell Hath No Fury
by XxxBubbleGumPrincessxxX
Summary: When News Journalist Blaine Anderson gets trapped in war torn Libya in the midst of disaster, his life is saved by kind hearted Red Cross worker Kurt Hummel. Can they find love in a country where all hell has broken loose? Can they even survive? Klaine
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I DO NOT OWN GLEE. Kurt, Blaine, Wes, David, Thad and whatever character I may include don't belong to me. I also don't own the 2011 Libyan protests.**

**Authors note: Thanks for taking an interest in my story ya'll! Unlike my other stories, I plan on actually going somewhere with this one^^. If you are unaware of what's going on in Libya, I highly recommend looking it up and getting some background information, although you don't have to to read this story. I've been doing research for the past couple of days, so I think my information is pretty accurate, but I will stretch the truth a bit to make this story work. If you have any questions or suggestions, feel free to ask. **

**Chapter one: Hell hath no fury**

_The ragtag team of filthy young adults watched eagerly as the curly-haired man grasped the nasty broken phone. "Please Shuester, just send us a plane-No, a helicopter! Just give us some sort of transportation out of here!" He spoke in a desperate tone, blood and sweat running down his brow into his eyes. His traveling companions looked no better, covered in dirt and blood-some of it not even theirs. Their clothes were ripped and messy-the one female's flowered dress had been reduced to hardly anything more than tatters. From outside, there was the sound of gunshots but they went unacknowledged. No one even flinched. They were all broken. "Please just-you can't…!" They all watched silently as their friend stuttered into the mobile phone. Finally, he snapped it shut. _

"_Blaine?" A green eyed chestnut haired man stepped forward and pressed a gentle hand to his shoulder. Blaine, who seemed to be in a trance, didn't respond for the longest time. Finally he whispered, _

"_He told me to stay put. He'll contact us as soon as possible." _

"_That's good, right? They're coming, right?" The sole woman piped up. Blaine suddenly screamed, and threw the phone against the wall where it shattered into a million pieces. _

"_Blaine, what the fuck?" A tall ebony skinned man exclaimed. "How are they going to contact us now?"_

"_They aren't." His voice was monotonous. "They're not coming. Guys, we've been abandoned."_

**36 hours earlier…**

"…And that's why Gaddafi is no good for us." The old Arab woman smiled as she finished her speech. Blaine Anderson quickly jotted something down in his notebook, his eyebrows furrowed in concentration.

"I see. Thank you very much, ma'm." He nodded to her, before turning and walking back to his crew. His camera man David was slowly sweeping Green Square, catching the protestors and their signs on camera while Wes and Thad chatted up some locals. Blaine sighed in annoyance. He was a good looking boy, with curly dark hair and hazel eyes, and the Libyan woman had absolutely no problem talking to him about their cause. All he had to do was flash them his hundred watt smile and they'd tell him anything he wanted to know. Blaine, though, was bored out of his mind. When William Shuester, the president of the broadcast agency where he worked told him he was going to be sent out of the country for his very first national story he had been ecstatic. He would finally be getting out of sleepy Lima Ohio and get to see the world. Not to mention the protests going on in North Africa were big news back in the United States, and Shuester had promised him a raise and a transfer to the branch in New York if he wrote a good story. He'd expected action and adventure, people running the streets with machetes and bats threatening peoples' lives. He'd even been looking forward to it. The idea of danger at every turn was exciting to him. But when he, David, Thad, and Wes had arrived in Tripoli, he found that the third world country he'd kind of half been expecting didn't exist. For one thing, Tripoli was right off of the Mediterranean Sea, and was filled with rich old architecture. The churches and cathedrals were beautiful and Blaine and his crew spent quite a lot of time being regular old tourist when they weren't interviewing protestors. The protestors themselves were quite peaceful, and settled for remaining mostly around Green Square instead of parading around the streets with their signs. They were likable too. When Blaine asked for an interview or asked for someone's opinion, they offered it up freely without argument. No one had even made a comment against their American roots. While Tripoli did make an excellent vacation spot, it just wasn't quite the adventure Blaine had been hoping for.

"Hey, how's it going?" Blaine sidled up next to David right as he began packing up his camera.

"Oh, Hey." David grinned. "I was just finishing up. You and the guys wanna go check out Sabratha?" Blaine smirked. He _definitely_ wasn't getting that raise. He and his friends spent more time vacationing then writing the article.

"Yeah, sure." He agreed. "Although I'm pretty sure Wes and Thad wanted to go to the beach." He jerked a thumb towards his friends, who were chatting up two very lovely Arab women. David chuckled in disbelief.

"Do they ever get tired of hitting on woman?" He asked jokingly.

"I don't even know. Let's just hope these women know enough English to tell them if they have husbands or not though. I _really_ don't want to get beat up again." Blaine grimaced at the memory. Two days earlier, Wes and Thad had chosen two women who knew absolutely no English. While trying to convince them to come back to their hotel with them, their two very angry husbands who knew perfect English stomped up and basically beat everyone's ass with the exception of David, who managed to run off before the fight could really start laughing the entire time. When they returned to the hotel all beaten and bruised, David had been stretched across his and Blaine's bed.

"Why did they beat_ you_ up Blaine?" He had asked while laughing his ass off.

Blaine had looked at him miserably, doing his best not to whine he responded, "_I don't know!_ I tried to tell them I was gay, but they wouldn't listen."

" Then you got lucky, Homosexuality is against the law here, remember?" David had reminded him. Luckily for them, the company had sprung for an expensive and very nice hotel. Blaine had heard plenty of horror stories about journalists who had had to pitch up tents and sleep on the side of the street in other countries. The only problem was that they could only afford one room for all four of them, but David had been cool about sharing a bed with Blaine.

"I know you don't like me, so why should I care?" He had said. That had been a tiny bit of a lie. Blaine actually _had _liked David at one point in their lives, back when they both went to Dalton academy when they were still in high school. David had just been so cool about it when he found out Blaine was gay, and Wes and Thad had both acted kind of strange towards him after they found out. It had only been for a couple of days and it wasn't really a bad strange. More like they just didn't know how to act now. They had wanted to know if they could still talk about girls around him. David had been so cool when he found out, that Blaine had wondered if he were gay himself. When he found out he wasn't, Blaine was pretty disappointed but soon got over it and hadn't pursued another boy since.

"We _always_ go to the beach." David moaned in disappointment. This of course, wasn't true. Since arriving in Tripoli, they had been to their fair share of museum's and historical sites, but still. They'd been to the beach a lot too. Blaine patted his head affectionately.

"I know darling. But those two idiots don't understand fine culture like we do. Historical sites are wasted on them."

"Hey!" Wes cried, as he walked up to them. "I resent that."

"Hey Wes," David smiled. "Where's Thad?"

"Still talking to those girls." Wes rolled his eyes. "They were more interested in him then me." David and Blaine chuckled as he scratched the back of his head bashfully. "So no beach today?"

"Nah." Blaine agreed. "I wanna go back to the hotel and nap. I'm still kind of suffering from jet lag here. What time is it back home?" David checked his watch.

"Well, since it's ten o' clock here, then it's…three am there." They all shared a collective groan. Somewhere in the distance, they heard somebody shout in Arabic. They didn't think much of it.

"I don't understand why you wanted to go to Benghazi." Wes suddenly commented out of the blue. "It's so calm here. I like the lack of violence, you know? It's nice." Blaine rolled his eyes. He would've responded, if the sound of a gunshot hadn't ringed out. The first of many. Green Square erupted into mass panic, people running and shoving and screaming. Blaine quickly lost his friends in the shuffle for safety.

"_David! Wes! Where are you?"_ He screamed out as he pushed through the people who were pushing him right back. People were falling all around him, and he turned looking desperately for where the gunmen were coming from. He didn't see anyone. "Wes?" He thought he spotted his friends spiky black hair in the crowd, but he was quickly swallowed up by the Libyans. "Dammit," Blaine swore, as he began running blindly with no destination. He had no clue where the gunshots were coming from, until he heard a whistling sound as a bullet whished past his ear. Looking straight up, he could see what looked like military men snipping them from planes. 'The airforce?' He thought in confusion. The Libyan airforce was attacking them? But…_why?_ "Thad?" He suddenly spotted his brown haired friend shielding some children behind him in a doorway. "_Thad!_" Blaine screamed as he watched his friend go down. Right as he began to make a dash for his injured friend, he felt his chest go numb. He stopped in his tracks and looked down at his blue T-shirt. Why was his chest numb? He couldn't see anything wrong with himself….a dark red blood stain began to slowly grow in the center of his chest. He rest his hand gently against it before pulling it back and looking at it, staring in horror at his blood drenched hand. Everything suddenly went black.

TBC…

**So what did you guys think? Let me know. And for those of you who don't know, Benghazi was where the Libya protest originally started, and also where the violence had been the most prominent up until this air raid. Wes knows about Blaine's desire for adventure, and that's why he talks about Blaine wanting to go to Benghazi. Also, the Sabratha lies about 40 miles west of Tripoli and is a popular tourist site. Read and Review, or else my chapters might come kinda slowly XD but good news, KURT APPEARS NEXT CHAPTER! Thanks guys!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: I do not own Glee.**

**Warnings: It occurred to me that I didn't do a list of warnings the first chapter, and there's actually quite a few of them! So this story is going to contain; Slash, BoyBoy sex, Character death(D:), graphic scenes of violence, and the glorification of real life events.**

**Authors Note: So I guess I could say thank you for all the reviews, but I'm typing this seconds after I posted the first chapter, so I kinda don't have any reviews yet XD. But if I have any by the time I post this, thank you for those! I figured I should type the first three chapters or so at once so I can get them out quicker. I'm a pretty lazy updater. Well anyhoo, I know you're dying to find out what happens to Blaine and everyone so on with the story!**

**Chapter 2: Lips of An Angel**

An Angel was singing. That was the first thought that struck Blaine Anderson's mind as he slowly woke from his drug-induced haze. An Angel was singing. Blaine head was pounding, and sweat was running down his face and chest. Mind numbing pain was coursing through his veins and he gritted his teeth, wondering why it felt as though someone was drilling a nail into his chest. He slowly blinked his eyes open and then quickly squeezed them shut, groaning from the brightness of the light that had pierced his eyelids. The singing stopped. He almost regretted making a sound, because the singing really had been very pretty.

"I think he's awake." A feminine voice whispered.

"Clearly, Rachel," A melodic voice responded to the first one. "Now go lay back down. You're my patient, not my nurse." If he hadn't been in so much pain, Blaine might've chuckled. Once again he attempted to open his eyes and this time strained them against the intense light. He was in some sort of vehicle, he duly noted, lying down on a cot. The vehicle was rather large with a lot of open space and then a driver and passenger seat. It seemed to be fully stocked with medical gear. From where he lay, he could see a slender young man standing at what appeared to be a medicine cabinet with his back to him. Next to him sat a woman on a cot of her own. She had large brown eyes and long brown hair. Over her right eye she wore a patch.

"Hello." She said pleasantly. "I'm Rachel. What happened to you?" Blaine began to sit up but immediately fell back down, his head hitting the pillow with a little whosh. Glancing down at his chest, he saw that his shirt had been removed and he had what looked like twenty or so stitches along his chest. He was drenched completely in sweat. Blaine felt the strength completely leave his limbs as his head lolled to the side.

"Where am I?" He mumbled weakly. That wasn't what he wanted to ask. He wanted to know who had been singing. Viewing the circumstances though, it was still a pretty valid question. The man who had been going through the medicine cabinet turned and walked over to Blaine, grabbed the foot of his cot, and dragged him away from the wall. Blaine began to groan in protest but the man just shushed him. Moving to stand behind his head, he sat down Indian style and rested Blaine's head in his lap. He leaned over him and gently mopped the sweat off of his forehead. Blaine looked up at the man above him who appeared upside down.

"You're in my van." He said. "I'm with the Red Cross. Kurt Hummel. You're friends are inside getting treated, but there wasn't enough room for you along with-" He pointed at Rachel, "-her. There actually wasn't enough room for a lot of people, but I only got the two of you." Reaching forward he began to mop the sweat off of Blaine's chest and stomach, minding his stitches. "If you ask me," Kurt continued, "You guys got the lucky end of the deal. The hospitals are already running out of supplies. Their forbidden by law to ask us for any of theirs." He shrugged his shoulders. "I gave them some anyway." he grasped the back of Blaine's head and gently tilted it, pouring a liquid down his throat. Blaine tried to struggle against him but Kurt held his chin firmly. "Sorry, I know it taste bad. But you really need to drink this. It'll take some of the pain away." After he swallowed, Kurt allowed the curly haired man's head to fall back into his lap. "There, it wasn't so bad, was it?" He let his fingers rest in Blaine's curly mane.

"You weren't nearly as affectionate with me Kurt!" Rachel cried out in an accusatory tone.

"Yeah well, you aren't nearly as cute as he is," Kurt cracked. The pair giggled, causing Blaine to groan in pain as he was jostled in Kurt's lap.

"Oops, sorry!" Kurt gasped. "I'm still kind of new at this whole Doctory stuff. You Ok?"

"Fine." Blaine mumbled. "You're the most beautiful upside down man I've ever seen," he slurred. If Blaine had kept his eyes open a little longer, he would've seen Kurt turn bright red in embarrassment. Instead he let himself succumb to sleep.

_**Glee**_

Kurt and Rachel watched as the man feel into a deep sleep. "Looks like he might play for your team," Rachel commented, bringing her hand up to her mouth to hide her smile. Kurt narrowed his eyes at her, but he didn't deny it. Instead he said in a sassy tone,

"It doesn't matter what team he plays for. This man has been shot in the chest. All that matters right now is that he receives the medical attention he needs."

"He's had the medical attention he needs," She pointed out, gesturing towards the sleeping man in Kurt's lap. "And now he's totally fair game. You should give him a kiss, see if he likes it."

"Because forcing sexual advances on a doped up man isn't illegal or anything." He said sarcastically.

"Oh please, it's only illegal in America."

"I'm pretty sure it's illegal everywhere!" Rachel had arrived about an hour before the curly haired man had, and had been a pain in Kurt's ass ever since she'd gotten there. She was born in Spain, he'd found out, and had lived in New York City for the majority of her life. Then she joined the unofficial peace corps and basically went wherever she felt like it, funded by her rich dad's money. She'd arrived in Libya shortly after the riots in Benghazi started. She had been in Green Square at the same time as the curly haired man, and she mentioned that she had seen him and his friends walking around talking to people. She told Kurt that she believed that he belonged with some sort of news crew or something, on account of the fact that one of his friends had a large camera. She came into Kurt's care after she'd been hit in the eye quite on purpose with the butt of a soldier's gun. He had fixed her up with an eye patch and told her she was free to go about ten minutes after she arrived. For some reason though, she stayed. No matter how many times Kurt _insisted_ on her leaving. Kurt's story was quite different. He grew up wanting to be a fashion designer, even made it half way to school on that major. One day in his junior year of college though, he watched the movie Hotel Rwanda and decided right then and there that he wanted to help people instead. He still enjoyed fashion though, of course, but he still changed his major to medicine and then ran off and joined the Red Cross. So here he was, age twenty three, on his first mission away from home in Tripoli, Libya. They said they'd set him up there just in case something happened, because as far as they knew, the protests in Tripoli were going to be kept peaceful. They wanted him to only get a tiny taste for the field he'd be in, not be thrust into the action to quickly. _So much for that._ Kurt thought bitterly as he mopped more sweat off the young man' s forehead. He giggled in his sleep as he tried to burrow himself deeper into Kurt's lap. Kurt smiled, it was kind of adorable, in a little kid way. _The medicine I gave him must have strong side effects. I didn't expect him to go out so quickly._ "You," Kurt suddenly pointed at Rachel. "Go get his friends. Let them know he's alright. Bring them back here to see him." 

"I thought I wasn't your nurse!"

"You aren't. You're my assistant. Now go."

"What?"

"_Go!"_

Rachel gave a weight of the world sigh before standing up and climbing out the back of the van. Glancing quickly from side to side, she made a dash for the hospital. "Damn her." Kurt swore, she had left the doors open. He made a move to get up and close the van doors, but was stopped by the man grabbing his wrist.

"Don't move." He slurred. Kurt collapsed back in his spot in surprise.

"Where you awake that entire time?" He asked, praying the answer would be no. The man gave a painful smile.

"Kinda. Some of it…I dunno, maybe a little." Kurt wanted to roll his eyes, that medicine definitely had some side effects.

"Did you hear what she said?"

"Yes." This answer was definite. Kurt wanted to die.

"I'm sorry about her, she's a little off and I _told _her to leave but she wouldn't and now-"

" 's fine." He interrupted. "Bland. No wait, Blaine. Blaine? Yeah, Blaine." Through his drowsy tone, Kurt was able to get that he was trying to tell him his name. "Was that you?"

"What? Was what me?" Kurt asked in confusion. He knit his fingers into Blaine's hair, causing the older man to groan. "Sorry! Did that hurt?"

"No. Like it when people play with m' hair." Kurt vaguely wondered if that was an invitation. He really did have some pretty hair. He just wanted to dive into it. "Sing…? You…Sing?" He was getting more and more incoherent. Kurt wondered if he was about to fall out again.

"Yeah that was me. I like singing."

"Pretty." Blaine whispered, and then once again he was out like a light. Kurt grinned down at the man when suddenly a thought occurred to him. Was he supposed to be keeping his patient awake? Oh my Gaga! Would he_ die_ if he fell asleep? He hadn't been given enough training! They'd taught him how to treat a broken arm at the most, not a freakin' chest wound! DAMMIT! Kurt was just beginning to enter full on panic mode when he spotted Rachel running back to the van with two boys. That's right, Kurt never did close those doors.

"I found them!" She cried, gesturing to the men. The tall ebony skinned man had a bandaged wrapped firmly around his head, while the shorter Asian man had his hand encased inside what looked like a bandage prison. Kurt looked doubtfully at their bandages. They looked shabby, as though the doctor who had worked on them hadn't been paying them much attention. He understood that they were probably dealing with a lot inside the hospital, but that still didn't give them the right to do a flimsy job. Kurt would have to redo them immediately. Pressing a finger to his lips, he pointed down at Blaine who at least_ appeared_ to be sleeping.

"He's a bit delusional, but I think he'll be fine…I think." The black and asian man exchanged glances but didn't say anything. Kurt noticed something was off for the first time. "Wait a second, when I saw you the first time around (**AN: Kurt saw them when he was standing in the hospital waiting for an assignment.)** there was a third guy. What happened to him?" The black man looked down, saddened suddenly. "He…He didn't make it."

"Sorry." Kurt said almost immediately. "Was he a nice guy?"

"Yeah, he was. But I don't want to talk about him right now. How about Blaine? What do you mean, 'I think'?" Kurt grimaced. He didn't realize how bad that sounded until right then.

"I'm almost one hundred percent sure. I mean, I'm new to this Doctor thing. I've only been in school for it for a couple of years. But I gave him some stitches and now he should be fine. He's just a little loopy off of the medicine I gave him…He said I was beautiful." Kurt added that last bit almost as an afterthought, but David still picked up on it.

"Yeah, he's gay. Do you have a problem with that?" The man sounded very protective over his friend, and Kurt couldn't help but admire him for that. Back in high school, he'd been picked on a lot for being gay, and not a soul in the world stood up for him, not even his stepbrother Finn.

"I never meant to imply that I had a problem with it," Kurt responded. He decided not to mention the fact that he was gay too. That would make this whole lap thing look a lot less innocent. "In fact, I never even implied he was gay In the first place." The ebony skinned man deflated immediately.

"I'm sorry." He apologized. "It's just…it's been a long day. I just want to take him home, you know?" Kurt gave him a sympathetic smile and nod.

"I understand. I don't know if it's safe to leave yet thou-" Kurt was interrupted by a loud banging on the side of the van. Everyone froze. The banging got louder, and then they heard somebody fire off gunshots.

"Fuck!" The asian man cried as he dived into a corner. Whoever was outside began to shout at the van in quick angry Arabic, and to everybody's surprise, Kurt responded just as fluently. Suddenly, the young man went stark white as he relayed the message to his new friends.

"They're with the Libyan army. They want me to open the doors."

TBC…

**CLIFFIE! So I'm sorry about how this chapter kind of dragged, it was pretty long too. I wanted to get the Kurt-Blaine meeting through with though, plus the added bit of Fluff for good measures. The next chapter is probably going to have a bit more action in it, plus a more coherent Blaine, and for the record people, they aren't going to fall in love instantly. R&R!**


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: DO I LOOK LIKE I OWN GLEE?

**Authors Note: ummm, not much to say, I guess XD. Thank you so much ya'lls for the reviews and story alerts, makes me feel special^^. I'm going to skip the long authors note and go straight on to the story this time.**

**Chapter three: Arabian Nights**

Blaine didn't know what woke him, his head hitting the ground, _hard_, or the young porcelain skinned man who was now yelling at his friends. "David, Wes? What on Earth…?" Blaine started to say, but he was quickly shushed by everyone in the room. No wait, they weren't in a room, they were in…a van? The memories came rushing back to Blaine, albeit rather slowly. The guy who was yelling at his friends to shut up, he was Kurt something. Kurt bumble? And the girl was Rachel. That's right, he'd said some embarrassing things to Kurt, but he couldn't remember what exactly. Kurt suddenly glanced at him, and noticed he was trying to sit up.

"NO!" He practically shouted, running over and pressing Blaine back into the cot. "You'll bust a stitch. Just lie there. I swear if you bust one, I won't sew you back up. You'll just have to bleed to death!" Blaine lifted an eyebrow but didn't try to move again. He watched as Kurt took a deep breath and flung the door to the van open, revealing five Libyan military officers. Kurt began to speak in rapid Arabic with them, and much to Blaine's surprise he could understand a _tiny_ bit of it. It wasn't a random miracle or anything. He'd taken an Arabic class back at Dalton as a gag class with Thad. David and Wes had tried to convince them to take Spanish with them, insisting it was a much more sensible class. America had many more Latino immigrants then Arab, but Thad and Blaine had just brushed them off. Now here they were, six years later, and that class would finally come in handy. He could see the nerves on Kurt's face as he chatted up the soldiers, who were looking over he and Rachel in a way Blaine did _not_ appreciate. The only word he was really picking up was, "protestors," and "Not," From Kurt's mouth over and over again.

"Thad," Blaine whispered, "You getting any of this?" He glanced around for his friend, and realized for the first time he wasn't there. The head soldier turned and gave Blaine a dirty look which Kurt added his, 'shut the hell up' look to. They turned back to each other and Kurt now seemed to be pleading with him. A nasty grin slithered onto the soldiers face as he pulled Kurt close, and the other men seemed to be undressing Rachel with their eyes. The man's hand slipped down to cup Kurt's ass and he squeezed. Kurt gasped, and the next thing he said Blaine understood perfectly,

"_Excuse me, but isn't homosexuality a crime in this country?" _The smile slid off of his face and without a word he backhanded Kurt across the face. Hard. David immediately flew to the smaller boy's side as he glared up at the man. He spat one last thing in Arabic at them and then he and his soldiers stomped off.

On the floor where he had fallen, Kurt began shaking violently. "We need to get out of here." He whispered clinging to David.

"What did they say?" Rachel asked. Kurt shook his head.

"They thought we were protestors. They thought we'd come from America to take over their government. They said they wouldn't kill us if…if Rachel and I…Oh God." Wes' eyes widened as David gagged in disgust. Blaine began to sit up again but was halted by Kurt's dirty look.

"_Lay. Down." _He growled. Blaine lay down. Kurt sighed in defeat. "Never mind. We can't go anywhere with him," He said, gesturing to Blaine. "He shouldn't be moving. At least not for another day or so."

"We don't have another day or so." Blaine spoke up from his place on the ground. Kurt turned his fiery green eyes on him again.

"I'm not going to be responsible for your death." He said, his voice wavering. "That wound is worse than it feels, Blaine." So he knew his name? Huh. Maybe Blaine _had_ forgotten quite a lot. Just what else had he told him?

"I'm much stronger than I look," Blaine said, forcing himself onto his feet, everybody stood poised, ready to catch him in case he stumbled, but Kurt reached him first. "You see?" Blaine said as Kurt slung his arm over his shoulder. "I'm-" He grimaced, "Perfectly fine." This was a lie, of course. He wasn't fine at all. In fact, he felt like his torso was on fire. Kurt didn't need to know that though. "Dave," He called to his friend. "Toss me my shirt." David complied, picking up the blue t-shirt and giving it too Blaine. He took a step away from Kurt and began to slip it on, but as soon as he got the shirt over his head he began to wobble of course. He felt two hands grab his waist and steady him so he could pull his shirt all the down. When he had pulled his shirt hall the way down, he expected to see David or Wes holding him steady but was surprised to see Kurt. Jeez, what _had_ he said while he was all doped up on medicines? This all seemed pretty intimate for somebody he'd just met. But then again this was the guy who sewed up his chest. After that you probably felt as though you know everything about your patient, Blaine guessed. "Umm, Thanks." He mumbled awkwardly. "Anyway, I'll just sit in the passenger seat with you." Kurt lifted his eyebrows. "And you're going to drive us back to our hotel."

"Umm? No." Kurt deadpanned.

"Umm, yes." Blaine countered. "You're driving me, David, Wes and Thad back to our hotel, and then we're all getting the hell out of here. There's no way I'm letting you and Rachel stay here and get raped." Blaine barely noticed how eerily silent it had gotten when he mentioned his friends.

"…Blaine? David whispered softly. "There's something you need to know." Blaine looked around at his friends. They were all avoiding looking into his eyes. Well, all except Kurt that is.

"What is it?" Blaine suddenly understood. "Where's…Where's Thad?" Nobody responded. Wes just shook his head. Blaine swallowed hard. "Well, Ok then. Now's not the time to mourn. We need to get out of here. We'll just…We'll just pack his things up with ours. Rachel, Kurt you're coming back to America with us. No exceptions. I don't care if you're Red Cross," He looked at Rachel, "And you're some sort of free spirit or something. I'm not leaving you here to die." Kurt wanted to protest, but one look into Blaine's eyes told him there was no point. This boy had a plan and he was going to follow through on it. He'd just ditch them at the airport, Kurt decided.

"Fine." Kurt agreed, much to everyone's surprise. "But at least let me rebandage your friends. That crappy hospital job doesn't look like it's going to hold. And let me bandage you for that matter, too. I never got around to putting bandages over you're stitches."

_**Glee**_

Blaine sat in the passenger seat next to Kurt, hating the world more with every bump and pot hole they ran over. The streets were practically deserted, which actually came as a big surprise for him. He expected to see more soldiers roaming about chasing poor citizens. He guessed everyone had retreated into their homes in fear. Blaine clutched a hand to his chest, his face scrunched up in pain when Kurt finally noticed his discomfort.

"Sorry," He said, dropping their speed about ten miles. "I just don't like this. This silence. It's creeping me out. I'd much rather be outside that chaotic hospital. At least there were people around."

"It's fine." Blaine brushed him off. "And no you wouldn't rather be outside the hospital. Those soldiers could've come back."

"I would've been fine."

"No, you wouldn't have. You could've been raped."

"Part of the job description." Kurt meant it to come out light, but almost immediately he realized how bitter it sounded. Blaine was staring straight ahead, his expression stoic. He clearly wasn't amused at all. Kurt suddenly found himself feeling guilty.

" Sorry, that wasn't funny."

"No, it wasn't." As they lapsed into silence once more, Blaine turned around in his seat and glanced at his friends. They all looked extremely tired. It was kind of funny, compared to what some of the journalist they knew had been through, what they experienced was practically nothing. And yet they still all looked so…broken. They'd seen people around them die. Blaine had seen Thad-No, don't think about that. Had he really been wishing for this just earlier that day?

"So, what's your life like?" Kurt asked as he made a turn off. "Back home I mean? We might as well get to know each other a little bit better." Blaine thought about this for a moment. Get to know Kurt. Yeah, that could be nice. The slightly taller boy really was attractive, and he did save Blaine's life, after all.

"What do you wanna know?" He asked.

"Oh I don't know, do you have a girlfriend back home?" Blaine could already tell from Kurt's tone of voice that he already knew the answer to that. How did he know he was gay?

"Who told you." Blaine said. It wasn't a question, it was a statement. Kurt chuckled, causing the van to swerve a bit.

"You did!"

"I did?"

"Well, no, but you did tell me I was beautiful. Even the drunkest of straight men wouldn't say that to another guy." Blaine could feel himself begin to blush. He had told Kurt he was beautiful? How embarrassing.

"What else did I say?" He asked insistently.

"Oh nothing." Kurt ho hummed. Blaine glared at him. It was clearly something, but he didn't press. They continued on making small talk until they pulled into the hotel parking lot. They all jumped out of the van with the exception of Blaine who limped out with Kurt's help. He had a firm grasp on his hand as he led him to the front of the hotel. After convincing the guards they were guest of the hotel, David led them all up to the room he, Wes, Kurt and Thad had shared. As soon as they slipped the key into the lock, Blaine and Wes gasped in surprise as their bedroom door swung open. Their room had been completely ransacked.

"It was the hotel staff." Rachel stated before anyone could even react. "This happens all the time. Everyone's so panicked about what's going on out there; they figure nobody would really notice if they went through your stuff. Happens all the time." Blaine and Wes just continued to stare in disbelief. David, however, could care less. He was just so happy to be off the streets and back in his hotel room. That is, he was happy until he looked out the window. People were starting to leave their homes again, with all sorts of common household items to be used as weapons. They were going to go after the soldiers, David realized, and then he suddenly had another thought. What if the airports had closed down? People were rioting. Of course they'd want to protect their staff and keep protestors from leaving the country. David resolved to keep his thoughts to himself for now; he didn't want to panic Blaine and Wes any further. The two had gotten over their initial shock, and seemed to have lost interest all together. So their room got ransacked. Big deal.

David couldn't help the small smile that graced his lips as he watched Blaine be led into the room by Kurt. It was so cute. Kurt had been behaving like a mother towards Blaine ever since they met; holding his hand helping him out of their van, checking for danger around every corner. Even when David had first climbed into the Red Cross van and saw Blaine's head in Kurt's lap as he rubbed the hazel eyed boy's hair soothingly. David supposed it was probably because Blaine was Kurt's first real patient, and he didn't want the shorter boy to suddenly break because he hadn't dressed his wound correctly.

Kurt's eyes darted from side to side as he led Blaine to the bed closest to the window (which coincidentally happened to be their bed anyway) and gently pressed him into a sitting position. He bent so that they were at eye level, and firmly grasped Blaine's chin in his hand. He turned his head from side to side, inspecting him, and then seemingly satisfied with what he saw, moved to go sit in the window seat and be content with watching him from afar. Blaine wore his best, 'WHAT DA FUCK?' look but didn't say anything, choosing instead to just lie back on the bed. David had to cover his smile with the palm of his hand. They were simply adorable.

Wes had also been watching the exchanges between Kurt and Blaine, and agreed with David. They were just too sweet. It was clear that Blaine was uncomfortable with Kurt's obvious care, and didn't know how to respond. Back home, Blaine was pretty much the only out gay guy in their town, and never really dealt with advances from other men. While Kurt's attention wasn't romantic in the least, it was clear Blaine had no idea what to do with it anyway. Wes could also tell Blaine was attracted to Kurt, and if he doted upon him any longer Blaine would probably develop a crush. It would be endearing, Wes decided, if Blaine and Kurt started liking each other. For love to develop in such dangerous times for them, it would be kind of lovely in a way. They'd just have to wait and see.

TBC…

**Yeah, I know, crappy place to end a chapter but it's One AM and I am tired! And yes, I know I lied to you all about there being more action in this chapter D: I IS SORRY. But the next chapter absolutely WILL have more action. I SWEARZ. R&R!**


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: I do not own Glee**

**Authors note: Now I can honestly say, thanks for all the reviews guys, I really appreciate it! Especially those of you who have reviewed more than once on more than one chapter. It makes me happy to know that you're sticking with me through the story. So, I don't know how long until the next chapter since I have ACT's this week(Those of you who've graduated high school? Yeah, I hate you) and then the week after next I'm leaving for vacation, so you might have to make due with this one for awhile. But no worries, I plan on jumping right onto five as soon as possible. Also, I know I keep promising more action and I keep not delivering XD. Sorry about that guys. I just want to establish a relationship between Kurt and Blaine before a get to heavily into the drama. And lastly, someone commented saying they hoped nobody else would die. Well, SPOILER someone else **_**is**_** going to die. Quite possibly a few someones. Who knows? I've already given away too much as it is, but prepare for heartbreak. That's the last I'm sayin' on the subject ^~. R&R!**

**Chapter four: Just Friends…Not Even**

Kurt Hummel awoke the next morning to the sound of someone banging on the bed room door. He noticed, through his sleep induced haze, that Blaine, David and Wes were all curled up tightly in a bed while Rachel was spread out across the carpeted floor. One bed was left untouched. It must've been the bed Thad slept in, he reasoned. Unfolding himself from his spot on the window seat, Kurt stood up and stretched, before stumbling over to the door and cracking it open. "What do you want?" He asked, a bit rudely. He'd been in the middle of a very pleasant dream. The Libyan man on the other side of the door wore a tacky white suit with a nametag that had, 'Manager' printed on it. He had an irritating comb over, along with a big phony smile plastered across his face. Kurt could tell from the sweat running down his forehead and his blood shot eyes that he was in fact, worried out of his mind.

"All of the guests need to report to the main ballroom as soon as possible. This is not a request, but an order." Kurt sighed.

"Fine." He responded. "But I have a friend in here that is very injured. May I clean his wounds before we come down?" The man nodded his head quickly before rushing off to the next room. Kurt closed the door firmly and tip toed back to the boys in the bed. Blaine was in between David and Wes, curled up into a little ball. The two other boys had their long gangly limbs spread out haphazardly all over the place, and Kurt couldn't help but wonder if Blaine enjoyed sleeping in a ball, or if he'd done it to give his bigger friends more room. Either way Kurt was sure of one thing, being curled up like that probably wasn't good for the stitches. "Blaine?" He whispered, shaking the hazel eyed boy gently. Hey moaned in his sleep and attempted to roll away from Kurt's prodding hands. "Blaine?" Kurt whispered a bit louder. He crawled onto the bed and hovered over the other boy, wondering if maybe he should just hit him or something. "Blaine!" He finally said in a normal tone. Blaine wearily blinked his eyes open, and looked blankly at Kurt before suddenly snapping up causing their foreheads to collide. Kurt fell backwards off the bed, nearly landing on Rachel while Blaine fell back into a lying position.

"Ouch! What was that? Who are you?" Blaine looked over the side of the bed at Kurt lying on the floor with one hand pressed to his reddening forehead.

"Who am I? Seriously Blaine?" Kurt asked in annoyance. "You've forgotten the man who saved your life? Well that's just peachy." Realization seemed to dawn on Blaine and he gave Kurt a bashful smile. Climbing off the bed he offered the porcelain skinned boy his hand that accepted it graciously and allowed himself to be pulled up. They held hands for a second longer than necessary, as Blaine apologized.

"Sorry Kurt. I just…I was dreaming I was back home. You just kind of startled me, you know?"

"Yeah yeah yeah. It's fine. Just don't let it happen again. I don't know how much more my forehead can take." Kurt gave a small grin. "So I need to clean your wound. They want as all down stairs A-Sap and I want to do it before we go."

"Why can't I clean my own wound?" Blaine asked, already removing his shirt. Kurt looked away, his cheeks reddening.

"Because you don't know how to." He responded firmly. "You could pull out a stitch. And like I said before, I'm not sewing you up again."

Blaine shrugged and began heading to the bathroom, Kurt following close behind. Hopping up onto a counter, he began whistling a song while he watched Kurt prepare the cleaning utensils. Blaine was watching him innocently enough, but it still made Kurt feel nervous. He wasn't really used to having attention on him. The curly haired boy began kicking his feet like a five year old as he waited for Kurt to attend to him. After catching Kurt in the knee, Blaine received one of the dirtiest looks he'd ever gotten in his life.

" _Stop. Kicking. Your. Feet." _Kurt said in a deadly tone. Blaine stopped. Kurt didn't like having to be so firm with his new friend, but he could already tell that Blaine was one hard headed guy. Dipping the cotton ball into some alcohol, he turned and reached for Blaine's chest when he was suddenly stopped. By a foot. Blaine had his foot pressed flat against Kurt's chest, keeping him from reaching him.

"What did you just dip that in?" Blaine asked his eyes frantic.

"What did I-? Alcohol. Blaine, it's just rubbing alcohol. Now can you please move your foot?" Blaine shook his head back and forth, his eyes widened to the point of a bush baby's. "Blaine," Kurt said warningly. He really was dealing with a child. A totally adorable child but a child none the less. Blaine pushed Kurt away with his foot so hard, he flew across the bathroom and hit his head against the wall. "Ouch! What the hell Blaine?" Kurt gripped the back of his head, looking at Blaine with murder in his eyes. "What's your problem?"

"I hate alcohol." Blaine said in a small voice. He clearly felt guilty for pushing the slight boy harder than he meant to.

"So what? You need to get cleaned!"

"No!" Blaine responded stubbornly. When Kurt made a move towards him, he once again stopped him with his foot. He had a bad experience with alcohol once when he was little. He'd gotten sunburned at the beach badly once, and his mother thought pouring the acid all over his body would help. It didn't. The pain had been so blinding he'd blacked out. Now whenever he got hurt, he opted for peroxide instead. "It's gonna sting!" he insisted. Kurt rolled his eyes.

"Blaine, you should know your sex appeal has just plummeted about 60 %. Why are you being so difficult? You weren't nearly this bad yesterday!"

"I was knocked out yesterday," Blaine reminded him. He almost poked fun at the slightly taller boy for implying that he was sexy, but decided to refrain. Kurt was mad enough as it was, and teasing him about his obvious attraction to Blaine would probably piss him off even more. Not that Blaine was complaining or anything. He thought Kurt was cute, and was flattered that he was attracted to him as well.

"You're a horrible patient!" Kurt screeched in despair as he struggled in vain to reach Blaine.

"I'm the best patient you're ever going to get, Doctor," Blaine said, winking at him. Kurt became flustered as he finally stopped fighting the battle he was losing with Blaine's foot.

"I'm not a Doctor." He mumbled, looking down. The two settled into an uncomfortable silence. Kurt shifted awkwardly from foot to foot, refusing to meet Blaine's eyes as he chose instead to stare at the ceiling or stare at his fingernails. Where had this random awkwardness even come from? Things were fine a moment ago! And now Kurt was wondering if he had messed up his hair when he'd been trying to reach Blaine with the cotton swab. Blaine cleared his throat, indicating that he was about to speak.

"That was nice you know."

"What was?"

"That. For a minute, I had forgotten where I was. What was going on outside. I wonder…" Blaine trailed off, getting down from the counter. He walked up to Kurt, grabbed the wrist that held the cotton swab, squeezed his eyes shut, and pressed it to his chest. Sucking in deep breathes; he did his best not to pass out. God that shit stung. Kurt watched him curiously, wondering what had fueled his change of heart. He began cleaning, keeping his strokes light so as not to cause Blaine any more discomfort then he was already experiencing. Blaine rested his forehead on Kurt's shoulder, halting him mid movement. "I wonder…" He repeated. "What would it have been like if we met before all this happened? You know, back home? What would our relationship have been like?"

"Oh, I know." Kurt spoke up, feeling yet another blush coloring his skin at Blaine's close proximity. "We would've hated each other." He could feel Blaine smile into his skin. "You're annoying." Kurt added as an afterthought. Blaine chuckled and stood up straight.

"Just shut up and finish cleaning my stitches. Before I realize that I've actually let you near me with that stuff." Kurt complied. After another silence, Blaine finally spoke again. "I think you're wrong."

"Wrong about what?"

"About us. I think we could've been friends. You know, before." Blaine's choice of words was not lost on Kurt. So Blaine didn't think of them as friends. And in all honesty, they weren't. Blaine was the patient, Kurt was the Doctor. For their relationship to change could have disastrous results. For one, if Kurt became too attached to Blaine and he died, well, what if he couldn't go on any more? That wasn't what the Red Cross was all about. He was supposed to deliver help and move on to the next victim. And truthfully? Well, he'd already helped Blaine, Wes, and David. He could leave now. No, he _would_ leave now. He was finished. He needed to get back to his post.

"Perhaps we could have. Before."

_**Glee**_

Blaine had no clue why he was shutting down the possible relationship he could have with Kurt. After the blue eyed boy finished cleaning him, he grasped his face in his hand, looked him deep in the eyes, and turned his head side to side just like he'd done the night before. After giving a satisfactory nod, he took Blaine's hand and led him out of the bathroom. Blaine learned the hard way not to question Kurt's methods, so when he offered him his hand Blaine knew to just take it. After waking Wes, David, and Rachel, the four stumbled tiredly through the magnificent hotel looking for the ballroom. Kurt stayed firmly rooted to Blaine's side the entire time, occasionally drifting over to Wes and David to check them over. After Rachel loudly cleared her throat Kurt huffed and glanced at her eye patch for a split second before dismissing her with a wave of his hand. The small girl was…offended, to say the least.

"You're sexist! One big ol' sexist jerk! You care more about the _men's_ wellbeing then mine! I could report you you know! I could get you fired!"

" Report me? For _what?_ For not babying you or something? And besides, you can't have me fired, It's a volunteer foundation. Duh. I should report _you, _actually. For _stalking_. Because I'm pretty sure I told you yesterday about ten minutes after I gave you that stupid patch that you could_ go. _And you know what? _You're still here._"

"How dare you! I'll have you know…" Blaine tuned them out the building squabble as they trudged down yet another fabulous hallway. The hotel was dead silent, everyone presumably already in the ballroom. Blaine, however, had a tycoon of thoughts forming in his head. And they all revolved around one particular person. This was all just so confusing to him! What was it about Kurt anyway? He was beautiful, there was that. And his biting sense of humor, even when there was such turmoil going on outside. He'd kept them all up late the night before laughing at his jokes(Most of them at Rachel's expense). He could also brush off almost anything tossed at him. Despite the fact that that soldiers come on had obviously shaken him up pretty badly the day before, he was over it less than an hour later. It was almost as though it had never happened. Almost. Blaine had tapped his shoulder the previous night and he jumped a bit higher than necessary. And also his uncanny ability to, well, make Blaine felt as though he actually cared about him. Which couldn't be possible since they had just met, but still. The slightly taller boy kept a firm grip on his hand, even as he argued with Rachel. When Blaine had awaken that morning, he'd been surprised to see Kurt hovering over him. He had come up with a quick lie, saying he had dreamt he was home, but that was untrue. What he had actually dreaming was he, David, Wes and Rachel were still in the midst of disaster. They'd never made it to the hotel, and David had gotten hurt and was dying in his arms. Blaine had thought it was actually happening, and that everything that had happened with Kurt was just some sort of pleasant dream. Needless to say he was happy when Kurt woke him up and he saw that angel he thought he'd dreamt up existed.

In the bathroom, Blaine had kinda made it clear he didn't want any kind of relationship with Kurt. Like, at all. And Kurt had _still _taken his hand and he was_ still holding it!_ 'So much for distance,' Blaine thought to himself as he stared gloomily at the pale slender hand grasped in his. Being friends with Kurt wasn't going to get him anywhere. At the end of the day they will still have to part ways, probably forever. After they left the country, they'd never see each other again. If Kurt even left the country, that is. Blaine had noticed his reluctance to leave the day before. He felt as though he had a duty to stay; he'd made a commitment. Wasn't that the point of the Red Cross? When things got tough in other countries, they swooped in and made things better? Blaine felt sick to his stomach.

"_You are an egotistical child! I should've let you go blind!"_

"_And you're using your position to take advantage of poor unsuspecting boys!"_

Blaine snapped back into the present. The argument had progressed, and they had stopped walking and were standing in the middle of the dining hall. Kurt finally let go of Blaine's hand so he could get in Rachel's face, and she was being held about a foot off the floor by Wes as she attempted to reach Kurt's neck with her hands. David quickly grabbed Kurt before the boy finally lost his cool and attacked her.

"Guys, Guys!" He said, ever the peace keeper. "There's enough fighting going on out there. Let's just forget all about it, can't we?" Rachel and Kurt grudgingly agreed, shooting one last nasty glare at each other.

As they four exited the dining room, they finally found themselves in the main ballroom. They walked in right in the middle of the Manager's speech, but none of the other guest paid them any attention.

" –Danger. Airports have been shut down, but you all _will_ be safely returned to your homes." They found an empty spot to sit in the back against the wall. To say the room was overcrowded would be a severe understatement. Blaine glanced sideways at Kurt who wasn't paying him any attention. He instead was staring intensely at a woman who was cradling a bleeding Libyan boy to her chest. She had tears in her eyes, and the small child was very still. It was clear that they had probably arrived that morning. Kurt immediately jumped up to aid the boy, ripping a piece of his shirt and making a very flimsy bandage with it. He began to reassure the crying woman, telling her that it was just a surface wound and the boy was just sleeping it off, even so, she continued to cry.

Kurt returned to Blaine, a very serious expression on his face. "I'm leaving." He said. Wes and David exchanged glances, while Rachel just stared at him in disbelief. A big man near them turned and shushed Kurt, but he ignored him.

"Fine fine, leave." Blaine said hurriedly, trying to listen to the manager speaking. "Just wait until he's done, Ok? And then we'll talk about it."

"No." Kurt said, his voice getting a little louder. "I shouldn't be here. I'm not a-" he looked around, a disgusted expression on his beautiful face, "-guest. I came to help, not hide. I'm leaving right now."

**TBC….**

**HAHA! So what do you guys think? R&R **


	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer: I do not own Glee! **

**Just a quick point of clarification: I started this fanfiction BEFORE the situation got so dire in Libya. Not to say it wasn't bad before, but now? Yeah, it's a lot worse. Just liked to let you all know that I already have the end all planned out, and it's going to end waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaay before any of the stuff going on right now comes up. Like, way before. **

**Sooooooo. Yeah. It's been a long ass time since I last updated, lol. And I gots a lots to say ya'll! First and foremost, I'm really REALLY sorry for the delay =[ Remember when I said I had ACT's and then vacation? Well, I had a week in between the two, and you know what I was doing that week? Studying for a horrendous amount of time so I could take my stupid finals! Why on EARTH would they plan finals and ACTs around the same time? I mean...really? I had to take them early since I was leaving for vacation! And then after I left, I was gone for about two weeks, which meant I missed the beginning of this trimester. And you know what _that_ means? It means I had to spend this entire week catching up in my classes, which left me no time to update =[. But the good news is, there's no school next week! Spring Break. Which gives me plenty of time to update =]...Save for one itsy bitsy problem. You see, my Microsoft isn't working. It seems to have expired, or something. I'll do my best to keep the chapters coming at the same rate they were before, but I can't make any promises. Ahem, on the note, I should probably warn you all, this is the last sappy/romantic chapter I have planned for awhile. After this, yeah, it's going to get a wee bit heavy. Dramatic and Angst galore. Not to mention I'm going to delve more into the facts of what's going on in Libya, and hopefully heighten awareness. I needed to set the stage for Kurt and Blaine's love life before I got into the heavy duty stuff. Also, I think you all should know, this definitely IS NOT my best chapter. Like, I seriously hate it. A lot. But I already wrote what comes next, and rewriting this chapter would mean I'd have to rewrite all the others so...Yeah. Lastly, I've decided that since I suck so bad at responding to reviews, I'm going to honor one of my reviewers every single chapter. You guys mean the world to me, and this story is for you =].**

**THE FIRST REVIEWER I'D LIKE TO HONOR IS**

**...**

**KITTY-KAT-ANGEL! Seriously girly, your reviews never fail to put a smile to my face =]. Some of the times when I write, I write with you in mind, wondering if the chapter will be to your satisfaction. Your positivity keeps me going, and this story might not even have made it this far if it wasn't for you. So, THANK YOU SO MUCH! This chapter is for you.**

**Chapter five**

Blaine blinked once. Twice. Three times. Was Kurt really serious? Evidently so, because the pale skinned boy was already making his way towards the door. Jumping up he followed him, weaving in and out of the people seated on the floor.

"Kurt!" He called, ignoring the shushes coming from below him. The taller boy burst out the large elegant doors, not slowing down at all. He was fast, unsurprisingly. His legs were pretty long. Blaine had to break into a fullout run to keep up. One of the guards opened the door for them and Blaine took the time to thank him. In that time, Kurt managed to make it to the van and climb in. "Kurt, stop!" Blaine called out, making a move for the car door. Suddenly, he had an idea. He planted himself firmly behind the vehicle and refused to move, even after Kurt turned the key in the ignition.

Rolling down the window, Kurt shouted out, "Blaine, move!"

"No!" He responded stubbornly, placing his hands on his hips.

"_move!_"

"Not until we talk about this!" Kurt jumped out of the van and stomped up to Blaine, his fist balled at his sides and fire in his eyes. The couple of inches he had over Blaine suddenly seemed to make him tower.

"Talk about what?" Kurt snapped, his eyes welling with tears. He crossed his arms. "Talk about how I shouldn't even be here right now? Talk about how I should be out there, helping people this very minute? How I should have _never_ built a relationship with you-" He faltered, "-guys? You, Wes, David, and Rachel? Yeah then. Let's talk." Blaine widened his eyes in disbelief.

"You don't understand-"

"No,_ you _don't understand." Kurt interrupted. As Blaine began to reach for him, he recoiled from his touch. The curly haired boy hoped the hurt didn't show in his eyes. Perhaps he didn't understand. He certainly didn't understand why Kurt was being so cruel to him. Why couldn't he see that Blaine just wanted him to be safe? The warm Libyan sun shone down on them and you could hear the Mediterranean sea gently lapping against the shore a few miles off. You'd never guess there was a war going on just outside the hotel gates.

"It's all my fault, I guess." Blaine lifted a triangular eyebrow at Kurt's odd statement. "I made you think...I was your own personal Doctor or something. I shouldn't have babied you so much." Blaine couldn't help but notice the security guard who'd held the door listening intently to their conversation. Blaine took the moment to shoot him a dirty look. "Blaine," Kurt continued, "This may come as a shock to you, but you don't know me. Like, at all. We just met yesterday, remember?" Blaine opened his mouth to object, but found he couldn't. They really had just met the day before, hadn't they? It felt like weeks ago. "You don't know my favorite color, food, you don't even know my last name. You sholdn't care about me the way you do. About what happens to me."

"Yeah, but I do!" Blaine finally managed to cut in. Kurt easily brushed him off.

"You shouldn't." He dismissed. "And besides, you made it clear this morning that we aren't friends. You have no reason to care." Blaine could've kicked himself. Why oh why had he allowed himself to try to distance himself from Kurt that morning? Had he really believed it would halt his developing feelings? Clearly, he had been wrong. He grasped the lithe boy's shoulders and forced him to look him in the eye. The tears finally began to fall from Kurt's green blue eyes. "Kurt," Blaine started, not really sure of whate he wanted to say.

"I really _really_ care about you. More than you understand. Despite the fact that we just met. I didn't mean what I implied this morning, I want to be your friend. I just-Wait a minute!" Blaine interrupted himself. "I've barely said a word since you ran out the ballroom! How on earth did you know what I was planning to say? About caring and stuff?" Kurt pulled Blaine into a hug, burying his face into his neck much like Blaine had done to him that morning.

"I dunno." He whispered against Blaine's tanned skin. "I just kinda...knew. When you ran after me. I mean, there's only so many things you could've been coming after me to say, right?" Blaine chuckled and grasped Kurt's waist., hugging him close. They both ignored the uncomfortable cough from the guard. "You really wanna be friends?" Kurt mummbled into the crook of his neck.

"Yeah, yeah I do."

"Then, please. Try to understand. You know, as a friend. I can't stay here. I don't belong. I _need _to go and _help._" He looked up at Blaine with his big doe eyes, sliently begging him to understand. Blaine glared back, the message clear. He didn't like this. Not at all. But he couldn't control Kurt, and he couldn't tell him what to do with his life.

After much deliberation, Blaine said, A bit grudgingly, "Fine. Just...Please. Don't die. And my last name is Anderson. Look me up when you get back to the states." Kurt tearily agreed before pulling away, watching as Blaine made his way back to the hotel doors. Blaine glanced over his shoulder one last time before entering the hotel. Or at least, attempting to enter it. He was roughly stopped by the Libyan guard's arm.

"Hey, what gives?" He exclaimed, pushing the meaty arm away from his chest. "Let me in!"

"No can do." The tall dark skinned man said in a heavily accented voice. "Once you leave the hotel, you aren't permitted reenty." Blaine stared at him in disbelief. Was this guy for real? Did he really just stand there and watch(rather obnoxiously)Blaine and Kurt's heartfelt goodbye and not mention, 'Oh, by the way, you can't come back in,'? This had to be some sort of joke.

"Why not?" Blaine asked angrily, as Kurt wandered slowly up to the two of them. The man shrugged his shoulders.

"You could be a terrorist or a theif or somethin'. Can't have you harming our guests."

"You're kidding."

"Nope. Didn't you go to the meeting kid?"

"Obviously not, since I'm here! Why didn't you tell me before I left the building?"

"We were instructed not to relay any of the information given during the meeting! 'sides, you didn't ask!"

Blaine sighed in exasperation. He really did have the shittiest luck. Kurt squeezed his hand before stepping forward.

"What if he showed you his passport?" He suggested. "Then you can be sure he's a guest here. Or at least...kinda." The guard seemed to contemplate this, before agreeing.

"I guess that should work." Kurt smiled and thanked him before they both turned expectantly to Blaine. It was awkwardly silent before he said a bit meekly, "I left my passport in my room..." Kurt face palmed. "I think I just might need to go with you, Kur-"

"Blaine!" A feminine voice interrupted. Blaine looked past the guard into the hotel, to see Wes, David, and Rachel running towards the door.

"No!" He screamed, throwing his hands up. "_Don't cross the threshold!_" Rachel, who was leading the other two, furrowed her eyebrwos in confusion.

"What? Why not?" She asked, right as she passed through the doorway. Wes and David were smart enough to stop.

"Rachel, you ditz!" Kurt screamed, face palming yet again.

"Hey!" Wes exclaimed, apparently deciding to ignore Blaine's warning. He also passed through the doorway. Another face palm for Kurt, plus a sigh from Blaine.

David, the only one who remained inside the hotel, looked from Blaine to Kurt, to the large Libyan guard before taking a large obnoxious step over the threshold.

"David, why on earth would you do that? you knnow you can't go back in right?"

"Wait, what?" Rachel and Wes both screamed.

"Yeah, I know." David shrugged. "While these two," He jerked his thumb in Wes' and Rachel's direction, "-were staring lovingly into each others eyes, the managaer announced that we're basically under lockdown. No one in and no one out. If you leave, you can forget about coming back." He smiled tentavily at Blaine. "But you were all out here, so I wasn't going to stay in there by myself.

"So let me get this straight." Wes stepped in. "We can't go back in the hotel?"

"Yup." The guard piped up.

"And we don't have money or our passports?"

"Nope." Kurt supplied.

"Well, Fuck."

**TBC...**

**I told you guys it wasn't my best chapter ^^; sorry for the delay over something so mediocre! However, it's still a good transistion into the next chapter, which I can gurantee is much better. Anyway, read and review!**


	6. Chapter 6

**Disclaimer: I do not own Glee! **

**Authors Note: Quick update this time, huh? But like I said, it is Spring Break ^^. Anyhoo, I realized I never gushed over Original Song last chapter. And I'm not going to. You know why? BECAUSE MY HAPPINESS CANNOT BE PUT INTO WORDS. It was just too epic. On that note, does anyone know when Glee is returning this month? I keep hearing different days! If you wanna leave that in a review, that'd be nice. Also, I'd like to send out a quick apology to KIT-Kat-Angel. Despite the fact that I dedicated that last chapter to you, I managed to get your name wrong ^^; Sorry! On that note, I'm going to just go ahead and start this chapter. **

**This one is dedicated to**

**...**

**Mr. Hummel! Much like Kit-Kat-Angel, your comments are some of the most appreciated by me =] They encourage me, and I also loved it when you mentioned my ACT's. It made me feel really good that someone was actually reading my author's notes and even took the time to comment on one. Thank you so much for everything, and this one is for you!**

**Chapter Six**

Their relationship was weird. Kurt had no problem admitting that. But it was also beautiful. The way they went from friends, to enemies to strangers in a heartbeat. And even lovers from time to time. Like now. Blaine's head was once again nestled into Kurt's lap, but instead of being doped up on drugs, Blaine was asleep by choice.

Kurt, Blaine, Rachel, David, and Wes had spent all day tending to hurt people. After Kurt had gotten restationed outside of another hospital around one in the afternoon, they were almost immediately overwhelmed with hurt people. Kurt had worked his ass off making sure they were alright, and while David and Rachel were very _very _helpful, Blaine and Wes were virtually useless. They fummbled and bummbled with medicines, dropped it, and Blaine had even stepped on a woman's hand. A woman's _broken_ hand. Needless to say, she wasn't happy. After that, Kurt had kindly advised they run up to the hospital and search for more supplies. They could take their time.

Now here they were, Seven PM, 62 degrees, watching the sun set on the meditteranean sea. Around five the rush of patients had considerably lessened, and had even almost stopped completely. The hospital had given Kurt the go head to take off, as long as he was back by nine. Kurt had parked the van in an empty parking lot a few miles down and backed into a space,opening the doors and sitting on the edge to watch the sea. Blaine had staggered tiredly over and collapsed, resting his head in his lap and immediately falling asleep. Kurt smirked as he ran his fingers through Blaine's soft luscious curls, wondering idly why on earth was he so tired. He'd spent most of the day messing everything up, and didn't get any real work done. Kurt gave Blaine's hair a tiny tug, causing Blaine to release a small moan. Kurt's grin widened as he tangled his finger's further into the stocky man's hair. So Blaine had a hair kink, huh? He'd have to file that information away for later. If there ever was a later. Time seemed to be on an endless loop. Yesterday, today, last week; There was no difference. No seperation. There was just before Tripoli and after Tripoli. Before Blaine and after Blaine. Kurt was trapped somewhere in the middle.

"_hey!" _Kurt suddenly heard someone shout from his right in Arabic. A group of Libyan men were approaching their van, bats in hand.

_"Peace be with you."_ Kurt said esaily in their Native tongue, removing Blaine's head carefully from his lap. He stood up slowly, dusting himself off, hoping his panic wasn't showing. Carefully he stepped down from the van and shut the doors gently, so as not to wake his sleeping friends.

"_Oh look,"_ the leader jeered, pointing at Kurt with his bat. "_The Yankee knows our language. Isn't that endearing?" _He laughed without humor, then took a threating step towards Kurt and lifted his bat menacingly.

"_Are you all protestors?" _Kurt asked unflinchingly. He met the other man's eyes without fear. Or at least, he didn't show it.

"_And so what if we are?"_

_"Oh I don't know, I just thought these were supposed to be _peaceful _protests? I didn't know it included attacking anyone who happens to wander by."_

_"And what if we _aren't _protestors? What if we're just regular people, looking to blow off some steam because we're pissed our city has gone to shit?_" A few 'Yeahs!' chimed up from behind him, making Kurt grow even more nervous. These guys weren't playing around. They were seriously looking for someone to take their anger out on.

_"hurting me won't change things." _The sweaty man grabbed Kurt by his biceps and pulled him close enough to smell his rancid breath. The sun finally sunk below the sea, leaving twilight to wash over the city. Kurt and the man engaged in a silent stare off before finally,

"_are you alone?"_

"_yes." _Kurt answered without hesitation. They must not have seen Blaine before Kurt closed the van doors. As for Wes David and Rachel? He was positive they hadn't been seen since they were knocked out at the front of the vehicle.

"_oh really?" _The man responded, cocking a brow. He wrapped his forearm around Kurt's neck and pulled his back flush against his front. _"Guys, torch it."_

"NO!" Kurt screamed, trying to pull away. The Libyan had an iron grip. He watched in horror as his goons began dousing the car in what smelled like gasoline. "Blaine, BLAINE!" Kurt continued to scream, clawing at the man's arm. He only tightened his hold, cutting off Kurt's air supply and causing him to gasp and choke. "_P-Please. I'll do anything!"_

_"Oh, I intend for you to do anything." _He replied, breezily. He trailed his hand lazily down Kurt's chest, before groping him obscenely through his pants. Kurt recoiled in disgust, before turning his blue green eyes back towards the van. Every muscle in his body seemed to just freeze and seize up, rendering him motionless as he watched a small rodent like man light a match. With one last smirk in Kurt's direction, he dropped it. A scream emmitted from Kurt's throat that he hadn't even realized he'd let loose as the Red Cross van went up in flames.

TBC...

**Okay so, yeah! Pretty darn short chapter! But I was kinda in the mood for a cliffie. Sorry folks ^^. Also, I wanna clear up a few things. One, I know it seems kind out there that I keep making men hit on Kurt. Well, I read somewhere that at one point, the hospitals in Tripoli were being overrun with rape victims, men and women and children alike. I imagine people were trying to use sex as some sort of comfort, block out the horrors that were going on, and rape was the result. Really guys, it was a crazy amount of rape victims. Since Kurt is so feminine looking, I imagine he'd be an easy target for some of the rapists. Especially men who were in the closet on account of the countries opinions about gays(Remember I said you could go to jail for being homosexual). Second, I don't mean to make the Libyans seem so...well, mean. I plan on introducing a positive Libyan character very were some people, who weren't protestors, who would take there anger out on whoever. Also, keep in mind that my story takes place at the beginning of all this guys, so what's going on over there right this very second is irrealevant. This is all based on what I read was happening back in Februrary. **

**R&R!**


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